


Soca Girl

by RenFemShep



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Blow Jobs in a Car, Dancing, F/M, Public Sex, Romance, Seduction, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 14:11:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2028039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenFemShep/pseuds/RenFemShep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short romantic, fantasy story of teasing and fulfilled desire.... they dance, they drive, they play....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soca Girl

**Author's Note:**

> First time sharing a work, I am a big Mass Effect fanfic fan, the naughtier the better and might in time adapt some of my drabble to the Fandom. My original female character really is my femshep in my head. I like a staccato almost poetic form and have deliberate left much vague and to the imagination. Would love feedback on style as much as anything else.
> 
> Definitions for the non-caribbean peeps.
> 
> Soca - type of music, born out of the Carribean Islands of Trinidad and Tobago - eg Kerwin Du Bois, reigning Soca Monach; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=74pYwmtzl24  
> Carib - type of beer, local to T&T  
> Liming - to lime, chill, partying, men in particular will lime on the street  
> Wining - to wine, dance to soca music, sexual explicit

She is such a soca girl. Loves wining up on a strong, built lover.  
He would be just as happy liming on the street with a Carib. Laughing with friends.  
But he can’t complain. Her ass pushes up against his growing hardness, moving with the upbeat, lively tempo.  
She enjoys the heat, the music, seeing the bustling crowds cover the fete ground.  
Feeling how he reacts to her doesn’t hurt either, she revels in the attention.  
That solid body behind her, arms wrapped around her waist.  
The beat compelling her hips to move against him. Gyrating. Hot. Hard. Urgent.  
They dance ‘till she is satisfied.  
Until her desire is properly inflamed. And she knows that he nears the point of frustration. Edgy.  
Staggering out of the fete grounds. It's late. They're tired. Sore.  
Whispers are softly exchanged about pleasures that await. Shared smiles, unspoken promises.  
A long ride awaits them along winding, narrow roads.  
Hot, humid breeze blowing through the open windows.  
Can't quite wait any longer. Zipper. Hot mouth. Hard flesh.  
The driver gets distracted by the lush lips wrapped tightly around him.  
The frown he wears as she lets him slip from her lips becomes a smile when he catches her eye.  
Sees the lust simmering there. Recognizes the grin.  
She is bent over the hood before the hand brake is set.  
 

Gravel under foot, a slight breeze rustling the leaves of the trees behind.  
Polyester, lace, cotton: impediments all hurriedly pushed aside.  
Finally.  
Slick, heat; stiff, fullness.  
Her moans echo across the empty landscape. Neither care.  
Their lust commanding all attention.  
A hard, quick, urgent fuck. Nothing tender about it.  
Just two impassioned lovers desperately finding relief.  
A swollen cock plunging repeatedly to a tight, wet pussy.  
The most loving gesture tendered when he reaches around to play with her.  
A short lived moment of unselfish thought before that final rush hits him.  
When everything swells and he explodes. Hard. Deep inside her.  
Breath to catch, they relax, standing up against the still warm hood; him sated.  
She is still a little wound up but content. Doesn't mind that he’ll owe her.  
For now, sleep is all that’s on her mind. She'll collect when she’s ready.  
So they stumble, both buzzed from the pit-stop, back to car and resume the drive.


End file.
